Licorice
by Misterfleas
Summary: Series of one-shot's based on roleplays with FluffyRobi. Rated T-M. Contains lime, Sadomasochism, kinks, mild humor, and general Tsunedere-ness. Enjoy
1. Licorice

Title: Licorice

Summary: Norway invites Iceland and Denmark over for dinner. Extenuating circumstances lead to the two brother's taking a shower together.

Pairing(s): Norway x Iceland; NorDen is hinted

Rating: M

Warning(s): Two men (countries? x3) showering together, a bit of sadism (but not in a kinky way), and a blowjob.

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

xXxXx

Iceland sat in his brother's living room reading a book. He was a little distracted by the smell of leeks and garlic coming from the kitchen. He marked his place, set the book on the coffee table and wandered into the kitchen.

Norway stood in front of the stove, sautéing the vegetables to perfection. Iceland's mouth watered as his brother added chopped red and green bell peppers to the pan. The sizzling sound was very soothing and the smell was unbearably appetizing.

"Noregur... why are you making Ysurettir Med Ananas og Karri?" Iceland questioned.

"It's your favorite." Norway answered automatically, voice as monotone as ever. He did not start, or really react in any other way, so he must have known that Iceland was watching him. Iceland frowned slightly; his brother wouldn't usually go to this much trouble, unless... he was up to something.

"Alright, Noregur, What do you need to tell me?" Iceland questioned.

Norway was silent for a moment, seemingly preoccupied as he added the shrimp, single cream, and pineapple to the pan. He moved to gather the rest of the ingredients without answering. Iceland waited patiently as Norway added Worcestershire sauce, curry powder and paprika. Norway stirred for a bit, tasted the dish, and added more curry powder before turning to face Iceland.

"Denmark is coming for dinner..." He said calmly.

Iceland groaned inwardly, a scowl the only visible sign of his discontent. It had been a long time since he had spent quality time with Norway, and he hadn't been expecting the intrusion by his brother's self-proclaimed best friend.

"Why?' Iceland asked; a selfish whine tinged the tone of his voice, betraying his youth more than his looks or mannerisms.

"Because I invited him." Norway said, turning away from his brother to add the previously chopped haddock to the pan.

Iceland's eyes pricked with angry tears, and he turned away to compose himself, though Norway hadn't actually noticed. He hated himself for behaving like a spoiled child, but he really couldn't help himself. He forced his face into it's usual emotionless expression as Norway turned an poured the pan into a prepared baking dish, and made for the fridge to get some cheese for the topping.

There was a loud banging on the door, and Ice started. Norway, however, looked up expressionlessly from his task, "Denmark." He muttered. Almost as soon as the name was uttered, the brother's heard a terrible cracking noise; the sound of breaking glass. Ice looked at his brother, who's eyes betrayed murderous content. To anyone else, Norway would have seemed to not react at all, but Iceland knew his brother like no one else.

Both brother's walked out of the kitchen to where the front door was, just in time to see Denmark open the door from the inside... through the broken glass.

"It. Wasn't. Locked. You. _Jævla. Rasshøl_." Norway said, stressing each word.

His volume didn't change, but even the Dane couldn't mistake the tone.

Denmark grinned stupidly and casually put a hand behind his head, "Whoops."

For a split second, Norway looked like he might strangle the Dane, but he just turned back towards the kitchen and grumbled, "You're paying to fix the glass."

Iceland followed Norway back into the kitchen, trying his best to ignore the obviously already very drunk Dane. He watched as Norway added the cheese topping and made to put the dish in the oven, but Denmark stumbled over to him.

"Norgie~" Denmark called in a slur, "Y'got any beeerrrr~?"

Norway set the dish down to steady the drunken Dane.

"Not for you, Danmark." He stated calmly.

"Yer so meee~an to me, Norgie~!" Denmark whined, gabbing onto the front of the Norwegian's shirt. All of a sudden, the Danes face changed.

"You don't look so good, Danmark. Maybe you should sit dow-"

Before Norway could finish his sentence, the Dane projectile vomited all over him. Norway stood completely still for a moment, before shaking slightly.

"Ehhh, I'm sowwy, Norgie~!" Denmark half-shouted, taking a step back.

So fast that Iceland couldn't really see what happened, Denmark was on the kitchen floor, out cold and bleeding from his nose. And Norway was standing beside him, dripping sick onto the floor and having a very grave expression.

"I'm taking a shower." He stated, voice betraying not a hint of emotion.

"O-okay..." Iceland murmured softly, unconsciously taking a step back.

"Take one with me." Norway said then, surprising the Icelander immensely.

The Norwegian's expression had hardly changed, yet his eyes bore into his brother in a strange way.

"Wh-what?" Iceland stammered mouth slack with surprise.

"Take a shower with me," Norway clarified, eyes still locked on Iceland's intently.

"O...okay," Iceland agreed, unable to say no with Norway staring at him like that.

"God.*" Norway said in his usual monotone. He turned and walked towards the bathroom. Iceland hesitated, and then followed.

Norway wasted no time at all stripping and dropping his clothes into the laundry basket. Iceland's face heated up as he stared at his naked brother. He was so pale and beautiful and had absolutely no tan line, making Iceland think he must sunbathe naked.

He nearly had a nosebleed as his brother bent over to start the hot water; which is why he was slightly flustered when Norway straitened out and turned towards him with a slightly puzzled expression, "Aren't you going to get undressed?"

"...okay," Iceland responded in a small voice. Slightly embarrassed, he turned around and got undressed with his back to his brother. Norway watched him idly, mind wandering slightly. When Iceland turned around, Norway could see that the boy was red with embarrassment and very flustered. He walked closer and put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "What's wrong, bror?"

"N-nothing!" Iceland stammered, eyes meeting his brother's.

Norway nodded and motioned for Iceland to get in the shower first; after a moment of hesitation, he did. Norway smiled slightly, the kind of smile you wouldn't notice unless you knew him very well, and got in too. They both stood awkwardly under the water for a moment, Iceland staring embarrassedly at the shower wall, and Norway staring at his brother's blushing face.

"Wash your hair?" Norway asked finally.

Iceland, not trusting himself to speak, simply nodded. He closed his eyes and tried to relax as Norway's fingers kneaded the soap into his hair. Iceland was surprised to find that he actually enjoyed it, and was left with a pang of longing when his brother finally washed the soap out.

"...thanks," Iceland remembered to say after a few minutes of the two brothers just standing silently under the water. Norway muttered noncommittally and the two were silent for a time.

"Want... want me to do you?" Iceland asked then.

A strange look passes his brother's face, Ice almost didn't catch it, but then it was gone, "Sure." Norway muttered, handing his brother the bottle.

Iceland washed his brother's hair with trembling fingers; he was sure he was doing a terrible job of it. Norway cringed a bit when Iceland snagged a particular lock of hair at the back of his head; almost as if it pained him.

"Sorry!" Iceland apologized quickly, removing his hands.

"...It's fine, " Norway murmured after a while when Iceland hadn't resumed washing.

Tentatively, Iceland reached up and washed the soap out of his brother's hair. When he was done, Norway turned around to face him.

"Let me wash you now," Norway said, holding up a loofah.

Iceland blushed deeply, and shook his head. Norway's lips uncharacteristically turned up in a smirk that was usually reserved for Denmark.

"Why not?" Norway asked in his usual monotone, "Danmark wouldn't complain,"

Iceland scowled, still blushing furiously, "Fine." He agreed huffily.

Norway's smirk widened slightly; even someone who didn't know him well would be able to decipher his playful expression. He started at his brother's collar bone, and worked his way down. Iceland's blush deepened as the loofah brushed along the coarse hair just below his navel. Norway met his eyes then, smirk still prevalent on his face, and leaned forwards so that Iceland could feel his breath on his cheek; he smelled like mint chocolate.

"What's wrong, brother?" Norway whispered, loofah sliding down one fraction of an inch.

Iceland's lips trembled and he struggled to speak, but nothing came out. All of a sudden Norway leaned forwards, closing the one inch gap between them, and kissed Iceland on the mouth. Iceland gasped and tried to step back, but only succeeded in backing himself into the shower wall; he let out an involuntary gasp when Norway abandoned the loofah in favor of his hands.

"S-stop," Iceland stammered, hand weakly gripping the offending wrist of his brother's.

"Hmmm?" Norway hummed lustfully, "Do you really want me to stop?"  
>Iceland blushed hot, embarrassed by the way his brother was touching him right now; embarrassed that it felt... nice. He whimpered and gripped Norway's wrist tighter.<p>

"If you want me to stop," Norway said evenly, "Beg."

Iceland's eyes widened in surprise. Norway was never so forward with him; never so demanding. They'd never even made love before.

"Well?" Norway persisted, smirk still in place.

No matter what, Iceland couldn't bring himself to beg. Besides, it really did feel good.

When no more protests came from his brother's mouth, Norway leaned closer and kissed him again, this time tracing his tongue along Iceland's lower lip, requesting access. Iceland hesitated, but opened his mouth. The kiss deepened for a moment, but just as soon as Iceland was beginning to enjoy himself, Norway pulled away. Confused, Iceland found himself uttering a sound of discontent; succeeding only in making his brother's smirk widen.

"Do you want me to make you feel god*?" Norway breathed into his ear.

It sent a shiver down Iceland's spine; he nodded weakly, knees threatening to buckle.

Norway chuckled lightly, very uncharacteristically of him, and suddenly Iceland felt his brother's tongue on his throat. He gasped as Norway bit him, leaving a dark mark on Iceland's pallid skin.

"N-Noregur!" Iceland gasped sharply, reaching forward to grasp the clothing that just wasn't there; his fingernails scraped against Norway's bare chest, leaving red marks on the pale flesh.

"Storebror," Norway corrected, licking the bruised skin of Iceland's neck.

Iceland's lips trembled, and his eyes pricked with tears.

"...S-Storbror," He half-sobbed, voice cracking terribly.

Norway backed off immediately. He was used to doing this with Denmark; used to making the other nation squirm and beg him for mercy. But this wasn't Denmark. It was Iceland. His little brother. His lillebror.

"...sorry," Norway choked out; he was not used to apologizing in this state. Or at all, really. His hands twitched, uncertain for a moment, then he brought one up to Iceland's lips.

"I am sorry, lillebror," Norway said seriously, kind eyes meeting Iceland's, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It... It's okay," Iceland breathed, his brother's gaze making him a bit uncomfortable.

"Do... do you want to continue?" Norway asked with great difficulty, looking uncertain.

Norway had hurt him, true, but not much. Besides, his brother did look a little put out, and they'd been having fun beforehand. Well, sort of. Iceland nodded, blushing again.

Norway graced him with a smile, a real smile, not the smirk he'd had before.

"If I do something you don't like..." He began.

"I'll say 'stop,' " Iceland told him.

"That... that won't," Norway began with a blank face, "Pick a different word." He said finally. Truth be told, "stop" was kind of a turn on for him.

"Like what?" Iceland asked, tilting his head adorably in confusion.

"Hmm," Norway mused, lips turning up a bit when he'd decided, "How about 'Licorice?'"

"L-licorice...?"

"Ja."

"O-okay."

Then the smirk returned, making Iceland feel weak-kneed and kind of fluttery.

Norway kneeled to the ground, and Iceland looked to him in confusion; his brother's playful smile was putting him on edge.

He stiffened as Norway leaned forward and kissed his inner thigh. Norway's tongue traced along the side of his length and down to the tip. Iceland had to brace himself on the shower wall when Norway took it into his mouth and sucked lightly.

"N-Noregur, ah-" Iceland gasped, leaning heavily on the tiled wall.

Norway gently tugged at Iceland's foreskin with his teeth; his own erection twitched at the moan that escaped from his brother's mouth.

Iceland blushed deeply, embarrassed by the sounds coming out of his mouth. He bit his lip and shut his eyes tightly, determined not to make another sound. They continued like this for a while, with Norway teasing and Iceland trying to hold back. But Norway was getting bored. He wanted his brother to squeal and writhe and scream his name.

Norway stopped teasing and began to really work his mouth over his brother's length. His own was already painfully hard, but he was determined not to come before his younger brother. So he picked up the pace, and accompanied his tongue-twirling by hand massaging the boy's family jewels.

Iceland inhaled sharply and bucked involuntarily into his brother's mouth.

"S-slow down, Noregur." Iceland scolded, sounding out of breath, "It isn't a race."

Norway regretfully obliged; this was just going at too slow of a pace for him. Had it been any other nation, they would have moved on already. However, he wasn't sure he was ready to "go all the way" with Iceland. Slightly annoyed, Norway went back to teasing his brother relentlessly nibbling along his length and tickling the foreskin with his tongue. But this just wasn't getting the reactions he wanted.

In a rather desperate and depraved last-ditch attempt, Norway bit painfully on the tip of Iceland's erection. It's the sort of thing that would happen whenever he shared this sort of thing with Denmark. The moan of half-pleasure, half-pain that came from Iceland's mouth was the undoing of Norway. He came instantly, his warm froth swirling in the shower water around his brother's feet. Norway didn't really notice, as he was dizzy and lightheaded from the sudden rush of endorphins.

Only after he'd allowed a strangled moan of pleasure at his climax to leave his lips, did Iceland follow suit. Because of the position they were in, Iceland's seed sprayed across his brother's face. Norway didn't seem to mind.

Body spent, Iceland dropped to his knees beside his brother. Something bobbed in the swirling water near his thigh; Iceland picked up the abandoned loofah and smiled warmly at Norway who was staring at him with a rather blank expression.

"Storebror," Iceland began, earning a twinkle of surprise from his brother's eye, "You've gotten something on your face."

xXxXx

A/N: So, I know it wasn't very well written. This was based on a few Roleplay's done with FluffyRobi, and it was so long ago that I really couldn't remember well what happened. I may or may not add more to the story. I haven't yet decided. Anyways, hope you enjoyed~

Translations:

Ysurettir Med Ananas og Karri: Curried haddock with pineapple (Icelandic).

h t t p :/ www. food. com/ recipe/ curried-haddock-with-pineapple-iceland-254478

_Jævla Rasshøl: No direct translation. It basically means "Fucking Asshole" and is a pretty harsh insult, I believe (Norwegian)._

_Danmark: Denmark (Norwegian). _

_Noregur: Norway (Icelandic)._

_Storebror/lillebror: Older/younger brother (Norwegian)._


	2. Jagermeister

Title: Jagermeister

Summary: Norway and Iceland have a little brotherly bonding time –shot-

Pairing(s): Norway x Iceland;

Rating: T, I think

Warning(s): Someone's gonna get spanked. :T (No real lemon or lime, just foreplay).

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya

A/N: Honestly, this isn't a continuation of the last chapter. It's another one shot. However, it takes place sometime after chapter one, and is also based off of a roleplay with FluffyRobi. Also, it jumps back and forth between Norway and Iceland's point of view, which, I hope isn't confusing. DX

EDIT: Okay, I feel the need to clarify, since I know the way I wrote this was confusing. To Norway, this IS a game, despite what he says/does to Iceland towards the end. He just likes to pretend it's not. Also, since someone brought it up: No I don't think he's done this to Iceland before. We hinted that he spanked the boy as a child, but never to the extent used here. This was intended to be sexual foreplay.

xXxXx

Norway blinked. His eyes adjusted quickly to the lack of light in his dimly lit bedroom, allowing him to see enough to pull the cord on his bedside lamp. He slid silently out of bed and slipped his bare feet into carefully placed bunny slippers. He then made his way over to his dressing table where he extracted a small box with a note attached. Norway stared at the box for a moment before shutting off his light and exiting the room.

Shortly, he found himself in the kitchen, rifling through the ice box until he found the curiously green bottle he had been searching for. Norway placed the frostbitten bottle in the box and set it on the table. He admired his handiwork for a moment and then began to make his morning coffee, as per usual.

Iceland woke after the sun had already risen. Normally, he would just roll over and go back to bed, but he was at Norway's house. And one of the rules at his brother's house was that if you slept through breakfast, you had to wait until lunch to eat. He sighed, pushed back the covers, and got out of bed. Iceland briefly considered making the bed up like he knew was expected of him, but in the end he left it as it was, covers bunched and pillows hanging off the bed.

He made his way into the kitchen, where Norway was preparing something with røkt laks, eggs, and tomatoes. Iceland wouldn't turn his nose up to the traditional Norwegian breakfast, but he would have preferred oatmeal with raisins. He poured himself a cup of Norway's incredibly weak coffee and sat at the table while he brother worked. A small tacky box caught his eye. He reached for it and read the attached note, _Happy Birthday Icelad. With love, Danmark. _There were hearts drawn all over it.

"Danmörk is here?" Iceland asked, glancing around the kitchen suspiciously.

"No, why?" Norway asked, looking very much as if he didn't care for the answer to his question; he brought the plates to the table and sat down.

Iceland passed his brother the note, and began to open the packaging.

"Icelad?" Norway raised an eyebrow.

"It's Danmörk," Iceland stated, as if that explained everything.

He extracted a small green bottle from the box; it was cold and had Jagermeister printed largely on the label. He turned the bottle over in his hands, but couldn't decipher any of the German inscriptions.

"It's not my birthday."

"It's Danmark."

Norway watched Iceland curiously as he sipped his coffee. Well, if you could call it coffee. Norway always drowned it in milk.

"What is it?" Iceland asked, not really understanding what he was holding.

Norway took the bottle, "Jagermeister." He read, "You'll like it. It tastes like licorice." He added, looking up at his brother.

Iceland merely raised an eyebrow.

"...You want me to taste it first?" Norway questioned, understanding the look in Iceland's eye.

Iceland nodded stiffly.

Norway sighed and unscrewed the cap. He sniffed the opening idly before tipping it into his mouth. Despite the coolness of the drink, it burned going down; the aftertaste it left was a mixture of sweet vanilla, bitter licorice, and strong alcohol. Since he usually didn't drink anything stronger than coffee, Norway suppressed the urge to gag from the taste.

"...happy?" He asked, handing the bottle back over to his brother.

Iceland narrowed his eyes, but accepted it. He eyed it suspiciously for a moment and then took an experimental sip. It burned a bit going down, but it was not quite as strong as Brennivín. The taste, however, was marvelous. Just as Norway had said, he liked it very much. Iceland hummed noncommittally, not ready to admit his delight.

"Well?" Norway asked, "Do you like it?"

Iceland ignored his brother, contemplating the best way to continue drinking the delightfully strong caramel colored liquor without alerting suspicion.

"Ice," Norway persisted.

"...já," Iceland sighed, sipping from the bottle again.

They continued their breakfast silently, Norway replenishing his coffee thrice, while Iceland nursed his bottle of Jagermeister. As he drank, Iceland became increasingly irritated; it showed plainly on his face.

"What's wrong, bror?" Norway asked finally, when they had both finished their breakfast.

"Bubbles." Iceland pouted, huffing.

Norway smirked slightly; he liked it when Iceland became slightly irritated like this. He was so cute when he was mad! And malleable.

"...bubbles..?" Norway asked innocently.

"My fish!" Iceland insisted, "YOU KILLED HIM!"

Norway quirked an eyebrow, "Danmark killed him. He's the one who poured half the container of fish food into his bowl."

"Já, but I asked YOU to feed him! Not Danmörk!" Iceland shouted.

"It was just a fish, lillebror. Besides, that was such a long time ago," Norway replied, bored-ly.

"He was special!" Iceland argued.

"How was he special?" Norway wondered aloud, "It was just an ordinary goldfish."

"He was special because you gave him to me," Iceland whined.

Norway sighed, "I could just get you a new fish then."

"Nei, you can't replace Bubbles!" Iceland scowled, "Besides, I have Mr. Puffin now. I don't need any other pets."

"Why bring it up then?" Norway was slowly becoming irritated and would not tolerate this conversation much longer.

"BECAUSE IT'S YOUR FAULT."

Norway, having quite enough of this, stood up from his seat, walked over to Iceland, and apprehended the boy firmly by the ear, "You know, you can be a real brat sometimes," he stated monotonously.

"Owww, let go!" Iceland protested, causing Norway to twist the ear painfully.

Iceland winced at the pain, but didn't give Norway the satisfaction of hearing him complain about it.

"I've had quite enough of your little attitude today," Norway told him, "It seems you are in need of some adjustment."

Iceland deadpanned, "You're going to punish me, brother?" he asked, a murderous look forming in his eyes.

Norway pulled Iceland up, still holding him securely by the ear, and began to drag him towards the living room, "Ja, I think that would be most appropriate."

Iceland had no choice but to follow, unless he wanted to part with his left ear. Norway led them to the sofa and sat down, pulling Iceland across his lap. For his part, Iceland attempted no resistance.

"...Noregur?"

"Ja?" Norway placed one arm across Iceland's waist, and began to trail his fingers teasingly down the boy's back.

"My head hurts," Iceland stated calmly.

Norway sighed, hand pausing in the small of Iceland's back. He considered his options at the moment and, regrettably, helped the boy to sit up. Iceland moved to sit beside his brother and leaned his head back on the couch, rubbing his temples.

"Stupid Danmörk," he muttered, more to himself then to Norway.

"Danmark...?" Norway questioned, not quite understanding.

"S'not even my birthday," Iceland mumbled, not really paying attention to his brother.

"...actually, Denmark didn't give you that present." Norway admitted.

Iceland quirked an eyebrow, a silent question forming on his lips.

"The bottle _was_ from Danmark, but it was mine. I put it there..."

Iceland stared at Norway for a moment, alcohol making his mind slow, then he lunged for him, "YOU KILLED MY FISH AND NOW YOU LIED TO ME?" He shook his elder brother by his collar; Norway made no move to try and stop him.

"W-why? Why would you do that?" Iceland's voice broke a little.

Norway shrugged, looking unremorseful. It took Iceland a moment in his drunken stupor to recognize the lust in his brother's eyes. He was suddenly very aware of how close they were.

"Nei," Iceland refused outright.

Norway seemed a bit put out at first, but his attitude quickly changed. He reached for the phone sitting on the coffee table and began to dial a number at random.

"Who are you calling?" Iceland demanded, pouting.

"I don't know. Danmark? Sverige? England? I'd take Preussen at this point." Norway stated frankly.

Iceland's reaction was immediate. He sprung forward and grabbed Norway firmly around the neck, choking him roughly.

"If you dial, I swear I won't let go," He threatened.

Norway made no move to defend himself from Iceland's attack, even letting the phone slip through his fingers. It bounced off of the couch and clattered to the floor, but neither seemed to notice.

"Fuck me or let go," Norway stated bluntly.

In his shock, Iceland _did_ let go, "N-nei!"

Norway slapped him. Not on the face, but on the arm just between the wrist and the elbow. He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he realized almost immediately that he'd liked it.

Iceland's eyes widened in surprise from the sudden smack; he could feel the sexual frustration coming off of his brother in droves.

Norway smacked him again for good measure, just because he felt like it.

Iceland winced.

"Something wrong, bror?" Norway taunted him.

"Nothing," Iceland snapped, scowling at him.

Norway paused, deliberating, "It seems we still need to do something about your attitude problem."

He took Iceland's hand into his own and led the boy to the guest room that he had been staying in. Iceland allowed it, not really seeing a point in fighting off his brother.

"You want to be punished." Norway stated; it wasn't really a question, but he wondered about the boy's lack of fight.

"I never said that!" Iceland grumbled in annoyance.

Norway gave him a stern look and pushed the door open; he paused in the doorway, surveying the unmade bed and clothing left on the floor. Iceland shuffled uncomfortably, almost wishing he'd at least made up the bed this morning.

"Lillebror, you weren't planning on leaving the room like this, were you?" Norway asked, a familiar parental tone overtaking his voice.

In a show of pure obstinacy, Iceland looked at the floor and refused to answer.

Norway frowned, pulled Iceland over to the bed, and helped the boy over his lap; this time using one leg to secure the boy in place. It didn't matter anyways, as Iceland didn't struggle at all.

This time, Norway snagged his fingers into the waistband of his brother's pajama bottoms and pulled them down without ceremony. Once he had them where he wanted them, pooled around Iceland's knees, he rubbed the boy gently.

"It's been quite a long time," Norway mused, "Are you scared, lillebror?"

Iceland huffed. If he could fold his arms across his chest, he would. However, he was too far restrained, "Why should I be frightened?"

"Because," Norway said calmly, squeezing gently, "This is going to hurt."

"More than my headache?" Iceland responded cheekily, sounding bored.

Norway frowned, "Bror, I promise, when I'm through with you, you won't even remember the headache."

Without further ado, Norway landed the first slap. Iceland winced; the first stroke was always the most surprising. Soon after, Norway started up a steady rhythm, alternating blows. Iceland just lay still and take it; not that he had much of a choice at this point.

Norway frowned. Iceland was _so_ stubborn! He knew this punishment was more or less unfounded, though, so he felt the need to clarify his reason for it; something he hadn't done when his brother was a child.

"Do you understand why you are being punished?" Norway asked, without staying his hand.

Iceland gritted his teeth. The spanking was getting a bit uncomfortable, and he didn't want to let Norway know how much he was hurting him, "Because you're a jerk!" he spat defiantly.

Norway paused in surprise of the answer before landing a particularly hard whack right where the boy's thigh met his cheek on the left side. Iceland jolted, not expecting the sudden blow. He had to bite his cheek to keep from crying out; tears pricked in his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Norway continued to slap the unremorseful boy, though this time on his tender sit spots, and perhaps with a bit more force than was really necessary. Through the onslaught of torturous blows, Iceland was unable to contain his tears, though he still refused to give Norway the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain.

"Perhaps," Norway allowed, "But that is not the correct answer. Would you like to try again?"

Iceland gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in the unmade sheets. Even with his high pain tolerance, he was quickly reaching his breaking point. He shook his head, not wanting to speak, for fear he would begin to sob aloud.

Norway nodded, though the boy could not see. He resumed smacking the less tender parts of Iceland's backside so that they both could concentrate better on what he was going to say, "This all goes back to your disrespectful attitude. Not just today, and not just with me either. You're like this with everyone." Norway said calmly, "I'm sick of it. If you want to be treated as an adult, then you need to stop acting like a child"

Iceland was listening, but he couldn't say he agreed with his brother. He didn't act like a child!

"You were raised to know better. I am very disappointed in you," Norway admitted, feeling sad as he continued with Iceland's chastisement.

Iceland frowned. Not the angry scowl he had worn since breakfast; a genuinely remorseful look. Norway was... disappointed in him?

"Well, what do you have to say for yo-"

"P-please," Iceland spluttered, choking back a sob. Giving up his defiance for that brief second made him very aware of the physical pain he was enduring.

"Please, what?" Norway prompted.

_Please forgive me_ is what he would have liked to say, but what came out was, "P-please, st-stop!"

Norway persisted on, "Stop what?" he asked, "The lecture, or the spanking?"

_BOTH_ Iceland screamed inwardly. It was all getting too painful for him; inside and out.

"N-Norgeur, p-please just st-stop," Iceland half-sobbed; normally he would have hated himself for weakening under his brother, but he just wanted it to end.

Norway recognized that Iceland needed him to stop, but he maintained his current rhythm. He still needed one more thing from the boy.

"What's the magic word?" Norway asked calmly.

Iceland blanked. _M-magic word?_ He'd said please! Something clicked in his brain.

"...l-licorice!" He half-shouted, being very uncomfortable now.

Norway stayed his hand briefly, causing Iceland to sigh with relief.

"Silly boy," Norway tutted, "Did you think this was a game?"

Before Iceland could fully comprehend what his brother had said, the blows started afresh. Iceland, now fully past his breaking point, could not hold back his first genuine wail of complaint; he became very upset, and started to sob openly.

"S-storb-bror," He whined, tears streaming down his face.

Though ignoring Iceland's cry of licorice was against their agreement, Norway continued on. For him, this made the game more real, "Why don't you apologize for your terrible behavior" Norway suggested.

As stubborn as he was, Iceland _needed_ this to stop.

"P-please. I-I am s-sorry," He sobbed, breathing raggedly.

"Sorry for what?" Norway persisted.

"I m'n owwwww," Iceland coughed, having difficulty breathing for all the crying he was doing. Norway stopped slapping the poor boy, "Sorry for what, lillebror?" he asked again.

"I'm s-sorry f-for b-b-be-behaving l-like a child," Iceland managed.

And that was the end of it. Norway released the boy from his hold and rubbed at him gently, massaging the sting out of his well-spanked bottom. Iceland just sobbed quietly into the crook of his arm. He was going through so many emotions at once that it was hard for him to sort them all out.

"M-my head s-still hurts a lot," he said eventually, though not as cheekily as it would have normally been.

Norway chuckled slightly, surprised that the boy still had gall enough to taunt him.

"I suppose I lied, then," he conceded.

"...S-s'not the only thing you l-lied about," Iceland frowned, sitting up to look his brother in the eye, "Y-you tried to blame Denmörk for the "p-present..." And, it's not the first time either. And not just with me, you lie to everyone."

"..." Norway wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

Iceland reached up and grabbed Norway's ear, much like his brother had done to him not so long ago, "Your turn, Noregur."

xXxXx

Good? Bad? I dunno. Hope you enjoyed it~

Btw, despite the fact our RP ended here, I'm thinking about a part two for this chapter. Mainly because, I need to know what happened next... and also because this story has a lack of smut. -shot-


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